Tale of the Champion
by GraveBreaker
Summary: Fate is a funny thing. I used to believe that I'd wind up a boring, normal person. Now I and my friend Al are fighting for survival in a world that is not our own. Together with the Shepherds, we fight for Ylisse.


**Hello, GraveBreaker here, with a new story. First off, before anyone says anything: Yes, this is a Fire Emblem Awakening self-insert fanfiction. Yes, I am aware that there is already an enormous amount of these already. Do I care? No, because this is one of the few things that I actually want to write. If you don't want to read it, no skin off my back.**

**We good? Good. Let's get started.**

/\/\/\/\/\/\

I shuffle around in my bed tiredly, too exhausted to even care about the uncomfortable feeling digging into my side.

_Ugh, how late were we out last night?_ I wonder. _Dammit Al, I said I just wanted to stay at the dorm and get some sleep, but no. You wanted to go out celebrating._

Sunlight shines on my face, forcing me to roll over in an effort to escape its glare.

Damn light.

…

_Wait a minute. When did we have a window?_

I crack open a single eye.

_Okay… this is _not_ our dorm room._

The room is small, and the walls, ceiling, and floor are all made of rough wooden beams. The bed, I realize, is stuffed with what feels like straw, giving it that rather uncomfortable feeling. The window is on the wall to my right, its cloth drapes open to let in the sun. The air feels humid and suffocating.

Ignoring my exhaustion, I push myself up, the bed's cloth blanket slipping off of me. I glance downward at the plain linen undershirt and pants I'm wearing.

_And these are not my pajamas. Where am I?_

A groan comes from the bed to my left. "Cole, turn out the light!"

I scoff. "I can't turn off the sun, Al."

My friend and room-mate, Alastor, otherwise known as Al, raised his head. He looks as tired as I am, his normally shoulder-length curly brown hair in disarray, bags under his eyes, and an expression of utter exhaustion on his face.

"You look like shit."

Ah, good ol' Al. "Look who's talking," I respond, smirking.

He sits up and takes a glance around the room. "Where are we?"

"Dunno, I can't remember hardly anything after last night."

I climb out of bed and approach the window. Upon opening it, I see something I didn't quite expect.

Outside are cobbled stone streets with the occasional patch of uncovered dirt, down which a horse-drawn cart clatters along. The houses are again made of wood, their roofs covered with stone tiles. In the distance is a square with various stalls within, their owners hawking their merchandise, voices calling out to all who could hear. I can see what appears to be a church of some kind, the only stone building in sight. A faint smell of flowers on the breeze reminds me of spring.

"Well? What does it look like out there?" Al asks.

"Like something out of the Middle Ages. I think we might be at a renaissance fair or something."

A knock comes from the door.

"Yes?" I call out.

The door opens to reveal a portly, balding man in a brown tunic and leggings.

"Excuse me gentlemen," He says. "I have your belongings."

_Belongings?_

I glance at Al briefly as two boys walk into the room, one carrying a large sack and the other two long bundles wrapped in cloth. They deposited the lot on my unoccupied bed before shuffling outside.

As I approach the objects, the man speaks. "Everything is accounted for, just as your friend requested."

"Friend?" Al asks as he climbs out of the bed.

The man nods. "Yes," he says. "The man in the cloak. He's the one who reserved this room for you. Asked that I deliver this to you three hours after noon. He was oddly specific about that part."

I glance at Al briefly before turning to the man, who I assume to be the innkeeper. "This man, who was he?"

The innkeeper shakes his head. "I'm afraid I don't know sir. He certainly wasn't anyone I've ever seen before. I couldn't get a good look at his face either; he kept it hidden under a hood. He was a strange fellow, though. Asked that I reserve a room for two visitors, and that I deliver these to you. He paid me quite a bit for it too. Is he truly not an acquaintance of yours?"

"Doesn't sound like it," Al replies.

"I see," The man said, although skeptically. "Well, I must be returning to my work. If you need anything just ask. We're still serving lunch downstairs if you're hungry."

"Thanks."

The man nods once more before leaving, shutting the door behind him. I look at the objects once more, before opening the sack. Inside I found an assortment of clothes and pieces of armor. I glance at Al to see him undoing one of the bundles to reveal a rather plain rapier, its hilt wrapped in leather. Al pulls the blade from its sheath with a quiet _shik_, revealing a long, thin blade of iron. Its blade is sharp, to our surprise.

I whistle. "Authentic." I unwrap the other to reveal a longsword, its hilt also leather-bound. A quick examination of the blade reveals that it too is made of iron.

"Swords, strangers in hoods, and… this," Al says, pulling a forest green cloak out of the sack. "What is going on here?"

"How should I know?" I shrug. "In any case, this stuff is pretty realistic. Maybe these people here are hardcore actors or something."

He smirks. "Well, if that's the case, then this is my kind of party."

"Oh, you just love this, don't you?"

"Why not?" He says, glancing at the rapier and cloak. "By the way, dibs on these."

I shake my head. Just what I need, more insanity.

Surprisingly enough, the clothes seem to be tailored to our sizes specifically (not a train of thought I am eager to follow), so it doesn't take long for us to sort them out.

In addition to his cloak, Al now wears a black tunic with white trim, a pair of baggy brown trousers, and a set of leather gloves and boots. On a leather belt around his waist he carries a leather pouch and a small dagger. His rapier rests on his right hip. As for armor, he selects a leather breastplate and a pair of leather pauldrons he wears beneath his cloak.

As for myself, I am given a blue tunic with yellow trim, a pair of white trousers, fur-trimmed leather boots, a pair of blue fingerless gloves, and a deep blue hood I tie around my neck. I use a long strip of blue cloth that I find as a headband to keep my blonde hair out of my face. I attach my sword's sheath to a leather belt affixed to my waist, with a satchel against my lower back. My armor consists of an iron breastplate, a leather pauldrons on my right shoulder, and a single leather gauntlet on my right hand.

"Weird how there's only one of these," I comment, glancing at the gauntlet.

Al smirks. "Maybe there was a sale. Half off."

I just stare at him. "Seriously? That's the joke you're going with?"

He chuckles and wraps an arm my shoulders. "Come on Cole. Let's go get some food."

We make our way downstairs to find ourselves in the inn's entrance. On the opposite half is an assortment of tables in which the inn's many other guests sat eating their meals, serving girls flitting to and fro bearing plates of food and drinks. I smell a familiar aroma and lick my lips in anticipation.

"Coffee."

Al sighs. "You and your damn caffeine addiction."

As one of the girls walks by, Al smiles and gives her a wink. "Hello," he says flirtatiously.

I palm my face in annoyance before grabbing him by the collar and dragging him off. "Come on."

At my insistence we take a seat at a table in the furthest corner of the room. I prefer to sit where I am able to see everyone else. A short while later, a serving girl brings us each a plate laden with ham, cheese, and bread, as well as a steaming mug of coffee.

And good God was it delicious.

After finishing the meal, I lean back in my seat. "Say what you will about this place, but they know how to make good food."

Al nods before climbing out of his seat. "Well, as long as we're here, we might as well enjoy ourselves a bit."

I shrug before following. "You sure? Shouldn't we be more concerned with figuring out where we are?"

"We can do that later. Come on Cole, live a little!"

"Fine. But you're paying for the ride back, you hear me?"

"Whatever!" He laughs.

Suddenly, the door is flung open, and gaunt man tumbles through. "Bandits! Bandits are attacking!"

"Gerald!" Calls the innkeeper, as he rushes toward the man. "What's wrong?"

"Didn't you hear?" Gerald rasps. "Bandits! They're in the town square, killing everyone in sight! They… they've set fire to the church!"

"B-but what of guardsmen? Surely they're doing something about this!"

"Dead! They didn't stand a chance!"

As the man raves on hysterically, the room fills with the fearful murmurs of its occupants. I turn to look at Al.

"Bandits?" I whisper. "Is this some kind of performance? Are we expected to play along?"

"Why not?" He replies. "Sounds fun anyways. Won't hurt to go along with it."

Gerald spots us, his eyes giving us a quick look-over, taking in our weapons and armor.

"You two! You're mercenaries, aren'tcha?" He calls out. "Please, you've got to help us! We'll pay you handsomely, just stop the bandits!"

"Gerald!" The innkeeper exclaims.

_Ah, what the hell, why not?_

I grin. "Well, my friend," I say, addressing Al. "He mentioned money. Guess we have to accept now, don't we?"

Al grins back. "Seems we do."

A look of relief spreads across Gerald's face. "Thank you sirs, thank you! They should still be in the square, just down the road. Hurry, please!"

"Come on," I say, gesturing to Al. We run outside. I recollect the view I saw from the room, mentally tracing a map. "This way!" I call out, turning down an alleyway, Al following right behind.

I come to a halt when I see a hulking man wearing a fur cape and a skull helmet standing menacingly over a cowering man, gripping an axe tightly in one hand.

"Thought ya could get away, eh little sheepy?" The man growls, sounding very much like a generic villain.

"P-please, gods have mercy!" The cowering man whimpers.

The bandit guffaws loudly, raising his axe above his head. "Sorry sheep, I ain't no merciful god."

The brute swings the axe downward. The man barely lets out a short scream of terror before his head is separated from his body, rolling across the ground. His body slumps to the ground, blood pouring from the neck.

"What the hell." Al breaths, visibly shaking.

I can't blame him. _There is no way in hell that was fake! That… that guy _killed_ him! What the hell is going on?! Don't… don't tell me this is… real?_

The bandit laughs wildly at the sight of the man's corpse. Noticing us, he turns a sick, sadistic smile our way. "Well, well, well. What have we here? More sheep for the slaughter? Must be me lucky day! The more I kill, the more I get paid!"

Shaking, I draw my blade with a _shik, _gripping it tightly in both hands. The bandit laughs even louder at this.

"Well, lookie here! This little sheepy fancies hisself a wolf!"

"Cole?" Al hisses. "What are you doing?

I gulp. "You saw that Al. He killed him, just like he'll kill us unless we do something. This isn't a game. It's _real._"

He pauses for a moment before drawing his rapier. "Yeah, you've got a point."

The bandit laughed. "Oh, lookie here! Now there's two of 'em!" He grins as he stalks closer towards us. "Well, me Mam always said not to play with my food, but who cares! She was a dumb bitch anyhow."

He rushes forward, closing the distance between us quickly before lashing out with his axe. I leap back, barely managing to avoid being cut in two. Al steps forward, thrusting with his blade, but the bandit smacks his weapon aside and catches him in the gut with the blunt side of his axe. Al stumbles back, sputtering.

I rush forward, swinging a two-handed stroke, but the bandit raises his axe and blocks the strike with his weapon before shoving me back.

"That's it?" The bandit sneered. "How boring. I thought you two'd be more fun than that!"

I glance at Al, an unspoken agreement passing between us. He nods. I rush forward once more, swinging.

"Again?" The bandit exclaims before blocking the strike. "How many times are ya gonna-"

He lets out a grunt of pain. He looks down, past his axe still holding back my sword, at the thin blade below his weapon, thrust into his bare chest through his heart.

He stumbles back, the blade coming out with a sickening squelch, coated with blood. His axe falls to the ground as he reaches upward with a hand, feeling his wound before examining the blood, an expression of disbelief on his face.

"Damn… kids." He mutters, and falls to the ground.

He doesn't move.

"Is… is he dead?" Al asked.

"I think so."

"I… I killed him!" He shook. "What the hell is going on here?!"

"I don't know," I say, shaking my head. "Come on, we can't stay here."

"And go where, Cole? I don't know about you, but I'm starting to think that we aren't anywhere near home anymore!"

I glance at the headless corpse lying a few feet away. "We're going to finish the job we were hired for."

"Are you insane?! You want to go fight _more _bloodthirsty killers after we barely survived one?!"

"We did well enough," I reply. "Besides, do you really want to leave them alone to slaughter an entire town?"

Al was quiet, gazing at the corpses.

"Alright," He relents. "But I swear, if I die, I'm going to haunt you."

I laugh. "Fair enough. Come on, we'd better get moving."

Al nods and trumps off down the alleyway. I take a final glance at the bandit's corpse. There's something unsettlingly familiar about him, but what that is I can't tell.

"Cole! Are we going or not?"

"Right, I'm coming!"

Well, no matter. I can always figure it out later.

The town square isn't much further, so it takes little time for us to reach it. I see a number of bodies lying on the ground. Dead civilians who had failed to escape the indiscriminate slaughter, as well as a number of dead guards who had failed to stop it. The acrid smell of blood and smoke fills my nostrils. The bandits had set fire to a great many buildings in the area.

We are spotted almost immediately by a pair of bandits. One wears a crimson tunic and carries a sword. The other in equally red robes and a pointed cap, yet oddly carrying no weapon.

The swordsman closes the gap between us with alarming speed, swiping rapidly at Al, forcing him back step by step as he desperately tries to avoid the blade.

"Al!" I call out, stepping forward to assist, when a sudden burst of flame erupts by my feet. I leap back in shock and divert my attention back to the other bandit, who I now see is holding a red book and grinning wildly.

_Was that… magic?!_

The mage raises his free hand, the tome's pages flapping wildly as a ball of fire bursts forth from his fingertips. I jump aside, nearly getting scorched in the process.

"Damn," I breathe. "Al! Watch out, that other guy's a mage!"

"Kind of busy here!" He calls back, still trying not to get cut by the swordsman.

I charge, closing in on the spellcaster. He fires off burst after burst of flame, each one I manage to somehow slip by.

_Thank you, dodgeball._ I muse.

He panics as I grow closer, his aim becoming more and more erratic, making it easier for me to slip in close. I swing, catching him across the chest. The mage gasps in pain, his book falling to the ground. With the momentum of my first strike, I spin around to deliver a downward blow that bites deep into his shoulder. He falls, dead before he even hits the ground, leaving me holding a bloodstained blade.

I pant with exhaustion. This was just too much.

"Didn't think we'd bump into any competent fighters here," a voice growls behind me.

I turn to face a large man. His red hair is slicked back, a long scar travelling across his forehead and over his left eye, ending just past his chin. Red paint adorns the sides of his face and his bare stomach, his large muscles visible beneath the bear pelt he wore over his shoulders. A small axe is held lightly in his right hand.

He glances at the corpse lying beside me. "Not too shabby. These boys may've still been green, but they weren't pushovers," He comments. "Tell me, boy. Are you interested in some real work? Something big is coming up, and when it's done, gold will be overflowing." He levels his axe at me. "You and your pal over there could be a part of it."

I smirk. "Sorry, but I have a thing against working with people with less intelligence than a shovel."

He growls in anger. "Should'a figured you'd be just another sheep."

He swipes at me with his axe, which I easily sidestep, but he swings again, quicker this time. I duck under the blow, and he kicks me in the gut, sending me sprawling on the floor before swinging a downward strike that I barely roll away from.

I climb back to my feet. _This guy's a cut above the rest._

He laughs. "Good, good! This'll be a fun one!" He gestures at me tauntingly. "Here, sheepy sheepy! Come to the slaughter!"

I grit my teeth and rush forward, swinging a vertical strike. He slaps aside my sword with his bare hand with ease, before slamming his fist into my face. I stagger back, lights dancing in my eyes, when a fierce pain suddenly lances through my left shoulder, his axe now buried into it. He rips the axe out, and I cry out in agony as he kicks me to the ground. I wince as I stare up at the man, feeling the blood pour from the wound.

He leers over me, his broad body blocking out the sun like an eclipse as he raises his axe. "Just remember boy, you could've been part of something great, but instead you decided to be stupid."

A battle cry roars behind him, and as the bandit turns in surprise a flash of light flickers across my vision, and he tumbles down, blood pouring from a wound in his chest. In his place stands a man holding a shining sword.

"Are you alright?" He asks, offering me a hand.

I set my sword on the ground and grip it with my uninjured arm, letting him pull me up. "Considering he nearly took off my arm, I'd think I'm anything but 'alright'."

"Er, right…"

I chuckle weakly as I pick up my blade and return it to its sheath. "Well, you saved me, so thanks."

I look at his face. _Blue hair. Huh._

Wait.

I take another look at his face, and then down at the sword he was storing in his scabbard, and suddenly something in my head clicks.

"Y-you're-"

"Chrom!" A woman's voice calls out.

I turn towards the voice and my jaw drops. There, standing in a purple robe, with her white hair tied in pigtails, was _Robin._ The default female Robin.

_Well, this is… unexpected._

"Oh, Robin! What is it?" Chrom asks.

"The rest of the bandits have been taken care of," She reports. Robin then turns my direction, taking in my bloodstained shoulder. "He looks like he's lost a lot of blood. We should get Lissa to patch him up when she's done with the other one.

_Other one?_

I gulp. "Al… is he alright?"

"Nothing serious, although he's going to have a pretty nasty bruise."

"Thanks Robin," Chrom smiles. He turns towards me. "Can you walk?"

I take a shuddering step forward, nearly falling over before he catches me, and drapes my uninjured arm over his shoulder.

"Come on," He says encouragingly.

The two of us slowly make our way over toward where I last saw my friend, Robin having run ahead to let Lissa know of my condition. My mind whizzes uncontrollably.

_This… this can't be real. Chrom, Robin, Lissa. Am… am I in Ylisse? I must be dreaming. This can't be real!_ A surge of fresh pain in my shoulder reminds me that it is. And yet somehow I don't feel any kind panic or fear at this revelation. Instead I feel… elated. _This… this is incredible!_

As we near where the others are, Lissa spots us.

"Chrom!" She calls out, running towards us, a small stool held in her hands. She places the stool on the ground, and Chrom helps ease me onto it. Lissa then takes a staff into her hands and raises it over my injury. It begins to glow, emitting a soft light. My arm suddenly grows warm, and the pain slowly fades away.

"Milord," A tall man in blue armor addresses Chrom as he approaches, leading his horse behind him.

_Frederick._

"Those bandits, they spoke with a Plegian accent."

"Plegian?" Robin asks.

Chrom nods. "Plegia is Ylisse's westerly neighbor. They send small bands into our territory, hoping to instigate a war."

"And it's the poor townspeople who suffer!" Lissa chimes in as she finishes patching up my shoulder. "Totally innocent, and totally defenseless…"

"Hey, you alright?"

I look aside to see Al, now sporting a nasty looking bruise on his left eye. "I'm fine. You?"

"Pretty good, all things considered. Nearly got cut in half by that nutjob with the sword before Frederick over there ran him through with his lance."

"And the bruise?"

"Guy whacked me in the face with the hilt," He grimaced.

"Milord!" A voice calls out. I turn to see the innkeeper running towards us. Behind him is an assortment of villagers, all running off in various directions to attend to the flames and wreckage the bandit attack caused.

When he spots me, he squawks in surprise. "Y-you're alive? I thought for sure that Gerald had sent you to your deaths!"

"We're only half-dead," Al jokes.

"Er, yes," He mutters. "Well, we may not have much, but I'll make sure we repay you for your services."

"Nah, keep it," I say, to the shock of everyone save my friend, who merely chuckles. "If it weren't for these people here, we'd be dead. If anyone owes anything, it's us."

"I- I see. Well, in that case, you all must at least stay the night! We would gladly toast your valor with a feast!"

Lissa eagerly steps forward at that. "Dark meat only for me, medium rare. And no salt in the soup. I simply-"

"A most generous offer," Frederick interjects. "And no doubt your hospitality would be grand, but I'm afraid we must hurry back to Ylisstol."

"Wait, what?! We're not staying?!" Lissa pouts. "But Frederick, it's nearly dark!"

I turn to Al. "We need to talk."

We walk away from the others until we are out of earshot, and then I relate to him my discovery about the nature of the world we are now in.

"You're sure?" He asks. He never actually played Fire Emblem Awakening, so all of this was new to him.

I nod. "Positive. This is all playing out like it did in the prologue."

He shakes his head. "A game…" He looks at me. "So, what do we do now?"

"I say we should follow them. We're stuck here for a reason, so I'd think we'll get some idea about why we're here if we stick around with the Shepherds. Maybe we'll even find a way home."

"Alright, if you say so."

We return to see the others preparing to leave. "Excuse me," I call out. "You said you're heading to Ylisstol, right? We're heading the same way. Mind if we tag along?"

Chrom smiles. "Sure, you're welcome to come along."

"Milord, is that wise?" Frederick questions. "We already have one stranger in our midst, now you wish to allow two more to follow us?"

"They fought to save Ylissean lives, Frederick. That's enough for me to place my trust in them."

The knight sighs. "Very well, Milord. If you insist. However, I think it prudent that we ask them their names."

I step forward. "I-"

But Al cuts me off, and with a dramatic sweep of his arms, he addresses them as he would a crowd attending one of his Drama performances. "Greetings, friends! Allow me to introduce ourselves! This man here," He orates, gesturing toward me as my face shifts to an expression of annoyance, "is the mighty warrior Cole, who once slew a thousand men in a single night! And I am Alastor, his loyal companion and chronicler of his tale!"

Everyone just stares at him. Well, everyone except Lissa, who is vainly trying to hold back her snickering.

I turn towards them. "Ignore him. He just wants attention."

Chrom smiles. "All right then," He says. "Let's get going. The capitol isn't far."

We all follow him as he leads us outside the village. Inwardly I wonder at the bizarre path Fate has thrown my way.

I'm in a world that I had only ever known to exist inside a videogame, now travelling with the very heroes of that game.

I grin. _This is going to be fun._

/\/\/\/\/\/\

**Author's Note:**

**And there we have it, the first chapter in a new story. I must say, I had a lot of fun working on this.**

**Please note that this is my first time working with a number of different elements, such as writing in first-person and present-tense in a story, as well as my first time writing a fight scene. If there's any area that needs improvement, please let me know. Constructive criticism is very welcome.**

**GraveBreaker, signing out.**


End file.
